Frost like your face spilling through my window,
blinding light paints patterns on my eyelids
because I’d rather not open them
and face this silent world.

Snowflakes like ashes on the pristine earth
when I can’t see the beauty in those perfect lies
When they see a new day dawning
all I see is blank white horizons…
the crystals shake like a music box beneath my feet
before they’re so easily shattered and melted
and I stumble once again on rough roots uncovered.

When the sun sets and lights fire
to whatever lurks beneath the surface
I lace my fingers as winter’s little chandeliers
burn and fade and steal me away with them.

Frost like night when I close my eyes.